


Belong

by Maur



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maur/pseuds/Maur
Summary: In Russia, apparently, scenting was a thing.





	Belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neveranygoodupthere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveranygoodupthere/gifts).



In Russia, apparently, scenting was a thing.

Well, it was a thing everywhere, of course, but no one in North America had ever casually rubbed their mostly-naked body against Sid like a cat staking its territory, not even bothering to look at Sid's startled face before loping off towards the shower.

"Shit," Gonch said, before anyone could start squawking about how that was _sexual harassment_. "Sorry, Sid, I'll have a word, that's - it's, uh, a team bonding thing in Russia."

"How the fuck is it team bonding to rub off on the omega?" Leclair said, sounding pissed as hell. Sid would prefer not to be called _the omega_ , he would prefer a fairly innocent scenting not be called _rubbing off on_ , he would prefer they not make a huge issue of this, but what he would prefer was rarely taken into account when the alphas were feeling protective.

"I said I'd talk to him." Gonch stood up, not posturing but calm. He wasn't one of those betas who cringed in front of alphas; he looked Leclair in the eye. "I should have warned him, but Zhenya didn't mean any offence, and he'll apologise when I explain."

"He'd better," Leclair said, and Sid had honestly been quite enjoying the casual way Geno treated him, and didn't want him to switch to the careful restraint most of his team showed. 

That was probably why his stupid mouth opened and he said "No, he shouldn't."

Both Gonch and Leclair blinked at him like they'd forgotten he had any interest in the conversation, which made Sid press on. "If it makes him feel like team, he can keep right on scenting me. I don't care."

"That's nice of you, Sid, but -" Gonch was cut off by Leclair.

"You can't do that," he said, to a general murmur of agreement. Sid looked around to find no one would meet his gaze but Flower, who gave a very French shrug and then nudged Tanger. 

"Sid can do whatever he wants," was Tanger's verdict. He didn't look pleased about it - he actively enjoyed shooing a off strange alphas from Sid when they were in bars - but Sid would take it. 

Having another alpha speak up for him was, still, way easier than trying to argue with an alpha himself.

"Sarge," he said, catching Gonch's attention. "If any other omegas join the team -" fat chance, there weren't more than half a dozen in the league "- we can reassess, but if all he's going to do is scent me sometimes, let it go. I know how hard it is to come to a new place with a language barrier."

Gonch stared at him for a long moment, and then shrugged. "Okay, Sid," he said, and Leclair growled under his breath and turned back to his stall, stripping off his pads with jerky movements. 

Geno didn't even glance in his direction when he puddled back from the shower. His legs looked longer and skinnier sticking out from under his towel. Sid felt warmly protective of his toothpick ankles, and resolved that if scenting made Geno feel less awkward, he was all for it.

 

"They treat omegas like shit in the Superleague," Tanger informed him at lunch. He'd clearly been waiting for the opportunity. Sid decided to be pleased he'd waiting til only Max and Flower were with them, instead of making a scene. "We shouldn't just let them get away with it."

"They have a lot more omegas in the Superleague than the NHL," Sid said. As a kid he'd followed them as best he could, with only one or two NHL players to look up to. 

"They don't treat them with respect," Tanger said darkly. "There are _rumours_. About what they're expected to do."

There were a lot of rumours about what Sid was expected to do, had done, was still doing as he lived in Mario Lemieux's house. Tanger would probably find a reason that wasn't the same, and believe it too. 

"If they smell like all the alphas on the team, it is no wonder there are rumours," Flower says, tranquilly. "People always think if you smell like someone, you're fucking them." 

"Yep," Max agreed, and then butted his face into Flower's neck. The scent wouldn't last as long on Flower's skin, but he'd still smell of alpha for a few hours. Vero didn't mind. Sid thought maybe she found it kind of hot.

Sid could still smell Geno on his own skin, and that was kind of hot, too. In a general way, not a Geno-specific way. Just having an alpha's scent on him was a little bit exciting. 

Tanger scowled at his plate. Flower nudged him gently. 

"Think of it like a hockey hug," he recommended. "Sweat gets all over, people pick up scents, it's nothing. This is just like that, to Geno."

He was right, of course. It was nothing to Geno, and that was the only reason Sid could be okay with it. 

 

Geno scented him two or three times a week, and after a month, in which he didn't lay a hand on Sid or say something suggestive or even leer at him, it was just normal. Even Leclair just rolled his eyes when Geno ducked his head into Sid's stall to rub their cheeks together. Sid's own scent was shifting, taking on the sharper notes of Geno's scent, and he couldn't help but wonder what it was like for Russian omegas, wearing the scents of every alpha on the team. It didn't sound awful. It sounded like belonging. He wouldn't mind smelling like Geno and Tanger and Max, if they didn't act like jerks about it.

Still. He'd definitely played with alphas who he wouldn't have wanted scenting him, who would have made something unpleasant out of it. Overall, the NHL custom was preferable, but he still liked Geno's scent on him. 

Geno was settling in and the team was used to it, so really it was just about time for it to go horribly wrong. 

Like, for instance, Sid pausing to snicker at Max translating - poorly - for Flower in the media scrum, and not noticing Geno padding towards him, intent on renewing his scent. 

"Uh," Sid said, as silence rippled out across the crowd of sportswriters, heads turning to watch Geno finish up by rubbing his cheek against Sid's damp curls before he strolled away. He hadn't even noticed the attention. "Well, I'm going to shower." And he was going to stay in there until he drowned, probably. It was one thing for the team, but - fuck, this was going to start a new round of rumours, and then he'd be accused of bringing omegas in the NHL into disrepute, and Don Cherry would say something horrifying, and Mario was probably going to be really concerned and parental.

Sid's actual parents would probably be okay with it; after all, it wasn't interfering with hockey or his happiness, so it wasn't that important.

 

Sid was attempting to eat his feelings, and actually kind of succeeding with high-protein blueberry pancakes, when Geno plopped down beside him on the couch. There was a careful six inch difference between them, Sid noted, whereas before Geno's knobbly knee would bump against his when they sat together. 

"Sorry," Geno said. He looked mournful, like a big droopy dog. "Seryozha tells me. I'm idiot."

Or maybe he said _Seryozha tells me I'm idiot_. Sid would protest that, but if Geno were calling himself an idiot - 

"Sid?" Geno said, tentatively. Sid shrugged and didn't look at him.

"It's nothing, it doesn't matter," he said, and Geno sighed. Then he put out his hand and touched his fingertips to Sid's knee. His sweats were thick but even so, Sid swore he could feel the warmth of Geno's broad, strong fingers. "What?" 

Sid's voice sounded breathless to himself. He hoped Geno didn't notice.

"Seryozha says... America omega scent is for, uh..." Geno gestured with his other hand. It was a very vague and non-specific gesture, nothing obscene about it, but Sid could feel a blush blooming anyway. 

He didn't - he wasn't letting Genk scent him because he wanted to fuck. He let it happen because Geno was team, and because he was annoyed at being talked over. It hadn't been some kind of ploy to get into Geno's pants. The kind of omega who did that -

Well. Sid had very carefully never been that kind of omega, because that kind of omega was bad for team chemistry.

Geno had huge hands and puppy dog eyes and he smelled really good, but that didn't matter. What mattered was being good teammates, and not causing a fuss. 

"I'm Canadian," he said, because Geno wouldn't understand one word in ten of what he wanted to say. "I wanted you to know we were team." He gently pushed Geno's hand back to his own knee, and patted it lightly before standing up. "It's no big deal."

Geno linked his fingers together, and stared down at them. Sid walked away, slow and calm, because if he stayed, if he thought about what he was pretty sure Geno was offering, his scent was going to turn warm and inviting and everyone would smell it on him, Geno's scent and wanting-to-fuck, and it would be - 

Sid was frowning so hard the muscles of his brow actually ached a bit. He made it to the bathroom, the little single room bathroom in the stairwell, and locked himself in. 

Geno was going to stop scenting him, and that was fine, because Sid didn't care about the scenting. People would forget about it, probably, as long as he didn't do anything stupid like fucking Geno, or walking round the rink stinking of desire.

His reflection in the mirror looked just irritable, now. That was fine. 

He had to leave the bathroom, because he had an appointment with Jen, who would no doubt be very kindly disappointed in him and remind him that he was the face of omegas in hockey, and he couldn't afford to make reckless, selfish choices.

"You... what?" Sid said, blankly.

"We support you," Jen said, more slowly. "Of course, it's unconventional for an omega to date a teammate -" 

"You mean it's not allowed," Sid corrected her, and she raised her eyebrows. 

"There's not a rule," she said. "Anyway, it's unconventional because of alphas being territorial over omegas, and that hasn't happened."

"Wait," Sid said, suddenly getting what was wrong with the conversation. "Jen, you know we're not dating, right?"

Jen's eyebrows shot up even further. Clearly, she had not known. "I was told..."

"Told?" Sid's teeth ground together. "Who told you?"

Jen refused to reveal her sources, but Sid could only assume that it was one of the team betas, who had decided that the scenting meant that Sid and Geno were fucking. None of the alphas would make that mistake.

"So this was just a heat thing?" Jen asked, and Sid shook his head.

"It wasn't a thing at all. Just the scenting. No sex. No kissing. Nothing. It's a Russian thing."

"I see," Jen said, and she didn't look happy. 

"I know it was stupid, but -" 

"The past is past," she said, "Unfortunately, so are three quotes confirming your relationship with Geno and saying the Penguins stand behind you."

 

Now, of course, the scenting was awkward. Geno turned a blotchy red every time, and Sid tried not to make eye contact with anyone. The only consolation was that the whole team found it hilarious, which meant the alphas didn't get pissed about the whole _situation_.

Alpha bullshit was extensive, but even they couldn't get territorial when both the alpha and the omega were clearly wishing themselves a hundred miles away. 

"You need to do it more often," Max said critically, and Sid jerked his gaze away from the middle distance to glare. 

"Excuse me?" he said, and meant _fuck you_. Max just grinned, and put his feet up on the coffee table, which had over two dozen half-drunk cups of coffee on it, because hockey players were animals and the player's lounge got halfway to a toxic waste dump every morning. 

"You don't smell like you're dating. You smell like he scents you twice a week."

"Yeah," Tanger said, and then added something in French that made Max snicker.

Geno was still there next to Sid, flushed and awkward, looking from one face to the other as if it would help him catch up with the conversation. 

"They don't know what they're talking about," Sid tried to reassure him, which got Max's back up, and he yelled for Gonch until Gonch came over and twisted his ear to make him yelp. 

"What do you want, pain in my ass?" Gonch said pleasantly enough, and Max explained the situation. Gonch then explained the situation to Geno, who looked actively miserable. Sid would hug him, if it wouldn't make everything even more awkward.

"He agrees," Gonch said after a lot of Russian was exchanged, and Max snorted. 

"Come on, was that all he said?"

"Not entirely," Gonch said. "He just said that he doesn't feel comfortable now he knows what the scenting means here. It feels... rude."

Max and Tanger gave Geno approving looks, as if feeling shitty in unavoidable circumstances were somehow a good thing.

"But he'll have to get over it," Max said. "More scenting, more thoroughly."

"Or we could just break up," Sid said, and Max and Tanger both glared.

"We wouldn't let him treat you like that,"a said firmly, and Tanger nodded agreement.

"Maybe I dumped him," Sid said, mainly to be contrary. He knows how bad it would look for him to be a fickle, flighty omega, amusing himself with teammates. 

"Sid, you're welcome at my home," Gonch said gently. "You don't have to be a sideshow for these heckling idiots."

"Would Geno mind?" Sid said, giving him a sideways glance. It was bad enough already, surely, without shoving himself into Geno's home as well.

But Geno's face lit up when Gonch spoke to him, and he gave Sid a hopeful look. Well. He didn't enjoy being a sideshow either, of course. 

 

"Sorry," was the first thing Geno said when they'd settled themselves in the couch in the Gonchars' den, an action movie playing on the huge TV. It was, Sid thought, the first time they'd actually been alone. "Sorry for all."

"It was my fault." The admission came easy; Sid had gone over it plenty of times. "I knew, I should have told you. It's my fault."

"Okay, but is bad for you? Not me. Have to scent, hug, kiss pretty omega - not bad for me." The corners of Geno's mouth ticked up in a slightly sheepish grin, and Sid ducked his head to hide his own smile. He'd been called pretty a few times, but it sounded much better in Geno's rumbling voice.

"It's really not that bad for me," he told his folded hands, and Geno edged closer until his knee knocked against Sid's. 

It was for the benefit of the team, after all. It couldn't be selfishness. Sid tucked himself under Geno's arm with a light heart. 

Cuddling was great. It was even better than cuddling with Flower, because there was nothing sexy about cuddling with Flower and a whole lot sexy about Geno's warm, lean body. Sid had expected it to be awkward, but he got too distracted by mapping the tender spots on Geno's ribs that made him twitch and squirm to worry about it. Geno was surprisingly comfortable to lie on despite his boniness, and his pulse raced under Sid's lips, and his hands were warm to the point they were kind of sweaty, which Sid found endearing and a little bit gross. 

His narrow thigh was exactly the right size to slide easily between Sid's and apply dazzling friction, and that occupied them for a few increasingly frantic minutes before Sid remembered whose house they were in, and how many people would sniff them tomorrow. 

"I have to go," he said, and rolled away. Geno was red-faced and breathing hard, and Sid ached with want. "I just, I have to."

"Come over tomorrow?" Geno said. They don't need to make out every day to be convincing.

"Maybe," Sid said. "Yeah, okay."

 

His heat came early, probably because he'd had an alpha hanging all over him. The shaky, tender feeling started on the plane, but he was able to nap through it; when he woke up, he was feeling hotter, more irritable. Years of practised politeness kept him moving as they disembarked and got on the bus, but when they got to the hotel, he trailed Flower to his room.

"What?" Flower said, eyebrows arching, and Sid shuffled his feet.

"Can I room with you?" he said, sounding plaintive, needy, and Flower's expression shifted to understanding. 

"Of course, _cher_. I'll text Max to room with Army, and you and me can have a night in."

Flower was the best. Sid showered off his uneasy sweat and got into his softest sweats and most worn t-shirt, and then he curled up beside Flower and put his head in his lap. He could smell Flower's cologne, the musk of his body, and his total lack of arousal. It was steadying to his frayed nerves; not as much as another omega would be, but good. Flower stroked his hair, and Sid sighed, and settled in to watch some weird French movie Flower had found. 

They were interrupted by a knock; Sid grumbled and huddled tighter against Flower. He didn't want anyone else in their room, disrupting him, getting his nerves on edge again.

"We'll ignore it, they'll fuck off," Flower said, and they ignored the next two knocks, but instead of fucking off, the knocker unlocked the door and stuck his head through.

"Hi," Geno said, and the rest of his body came through and he shut the door. Sid's muscles were locked tight just at the _thought_ of what Geno would smell like.

"Fuck off," Flower ordered, and Geno made a non-committal noise. There was no way, of course, he'd take orders from Flower. Certainly not in front of an omega. In front of Sid, who he... 

"Max says," Geno started, and Flower swore in French. Sid turned his face into Flower's thigh, and listened to Geno's socked feet shuffling on the carpet as he wandered around the room. He still couldn't smell Geno, but Geno would be able to smell him, the thick luring scents of an omega about to go into heat. _Fertile_. 

He wasn't, of course, he got a birth control shot, but suppressing heats was supposed bad for omega health. So he had to go through this stupid, irritating, uncomfortable nonsense - not that he minded cuddling with Flower, it was just. Annoying. 

"He could stay," Sid said against Flower's leg, and Geno shuffled nearer. Sid could _almost_ smell him, swore he could feel the air thickening. If he didn't have his nose full of fabric softener, maybe. 

"Flower, you go," Geno said. He was hopeful, not bullying, and that made Sid feel squirmy. He didn't like it when alphas pushed him around, but he thought he wouldn't mind being coaxed, especially not in Geno's deep, thick voice. 

Flower groaned. There was a thud that might be his head contacting the wall, and then he tugged on the hair at Sid's nape. "Up, you," he ordered, and Sid sat up. His hair was like a dandelion clock and his face must be bright pink, but Geno looked at him like - like - "No, look at me." Flower took his chin and firmly turned him. "You sure?" 

"Yeah," he said. Flower's mouth was twisted up with concern, and Sid focused to reassure him. "What, because this is what's going to fuck up team chemistry?" 

"I don't give a shit about chemistry," Flower said. "Are you going to be okay?" 

"What happens in heat stays in heat," and it was flippant, but mostly true. You didn't hold people to account for shit they did in heat. If it wasn't quite a free pass, it was certainly enough license to get away with getting a helping hand from a teammate. "Go room with - with whoever. Geno will take care of me."

"I bet he will." Flower shook his head. "Okay. You call me if there's a problem, okay?" 

"Uh, no," Sid said, and Flower rolled his eyes. 

"Not a _fucking_ problem. But if he gives you any trouble, you call, and I'll send Max and Tanger over."

"You've been listening to Tanger's shit about Russian alphas," Sid said mildly, and Flower didn't deny it. "Go away, and try not to tell the whole team I'm getting some."

Flower threw his shit back into his bag and cleared out, pausing to point at his eyes and then at Geno. Geno held up his hands placatingly, and then turned bright eyes to Sid as the door closed, shutting them in together.

"I can still say no," Sid said, and Geno, probably understanding the tone more than the words, took his obnoxious smile down a few notches and sat on the edge of the bed, flopping over til his head was almost touching Sid's knee. Sid prodded him with his toe, and Geno curled up around it and pretended to bite his ankle. "You're not funny," Sid told him, but his tone must have said _you're hilarious_ because Geno pushed up the cuff of his sweatpants and kissed the knobbly bone of his ankle.

"Sid," he murmured, and Sid knew how good that voice felt murmuring soft words against his neck. He kicked free of Geno's grip and headed to the mini-fridge to get himself water; Geno rolled his head to follow Sid's steps, but didn't move otherwise. 

The water bottle was ice-cold against his brow and throat. He'd barely spent five minutes with an alpha, and his heat had advanced more than an hour working on himself. It had always seemed too much effort, left him raw and exhausted, but with an alpha, perhaps it would be worth it. 

He wasn't sure if Geno actually looked smug or if it was just his imagination, but when he'd drunk the water he tossed the bottle at Geno's head anyway.

"Mean," Geno said, and reached one long arm in Sid's direction, wiggling his fingers. Sid turned his back, and paced up and down the room. He wasn't quite - he didn't quite feel - 

He wanted Geno here, paying close attention to him, but he didn't want to touch. He'd been under the impression he'd be desperate for it, but he just kept pacing and Geno kept watching him, curled up and sleepy-eyed.

"Maybe we should just get started," Sid said, and Geno blinked at him in a noncommittal way. Sid sidled towards the bed, and then away from Geno's outstretched hand. Surely Geno was meant to _do_ something, not just sit there waiting for Sid to - what, sit on his dick?

The thought made his belly tighten; he cast a quick glance at Geno, but the way his body curved made it impossible to tell if his dick was even interested. 

"Why are you even here?" Sid snapped, and went back for more water. He wondered how much bitching it would take to drive Geno away, and threw this bottle before it was even empty. Annoyingly, Geno caught it without spilling any, and drank the rest of it.

"Thank you," he said, and Sid scowled at him. He didn't show any signs of doing anything about Sid; just adjusted his position so he could rest his head on the pillow and keep Sid in view.

Maybe he wanted to make Sid beg? That was a thing in porn, certainly, but Sid wasn't about to act like that. He wanted, sure, he wanted a _lot_ , but not enough to make some kind of - performance. If Geno thought he could just wander in here, unasked, and make Sid beg for his dick like it was a favour - 

Geno let out all his breath in a winded rush when Sid jumped on him, and then curled his arms around Sid and pulled him close before he could scramble off.

"Sorry," Sid muttered, feeling stupid and clumsy, but Geno pushed his face against Sid's shoulder and then rubbed his cheek against Sid's neck. That was nice, and when Sid settled into his lap, he could feel that Geno was very interested indeed.

"Sid," Geno muttered, and tugged on his shirt. "Please?" He sounded needy enough to satisfy Sid's ego, and maybe give him a touch of guilt. Maybe Geno was just careful; he'd been warned pretty thoroughly about messing with Sid, after all.

He pulled off his shirt, and Geno's hands felt so good on his skin he rolled out of Geno's lap to strip off his sweatpants and boxers too. He was hot and a little sticky, and he could smell the way his body was making itself ready, which would have been more embarrassing if Geno didn't gulp in a deep breath, eyes dazed like he'd hit the boards head-first.

"You too," Sid ordered, and started to yank down Geno's pants, making him yelp. Sid really did not want to wait any longer, and in his opinion, Geno had wasted enough time lounging around.

Geno yelped again when Sid grabbed his dick as soon as it was exposed, and then grabbed Sid's thighs with his huge hands, fingers digging in. The strength it took to hold Sid in place might have been impressive, except he was stopping Sid from getting on his dick, which was just unacceptable.

"You fucker," Sid snapped, and squeezed his dick for emphasis. Geno made an extremely conflicted expression, and then let go with one hand to scrabble at his pocket, which was screwed up at his thigh. 

"Use, dick," he said, and Sid was about to say that was what he was _trying_ to do, when he realised Geno had condoms.

He didn't think it really mattered - if Geno had managed any action since his start of season physical, he'd kept it very quiet - but he snatched one of the packets, tore it open, and smoothed the condom down over Geno's dick. Geno unwrapped his hand from Sid's thigh, and _fucking finally_ Sid slid down onto him, letting out a groan of satisfaction matched by Geno's sigh.

It felt like water at the end of a shift, like getting a shot to get you back on the ice. Something necessary and urgent. Geno's hands were at his hips, trying to coax him into movement, but Sid settled his weight more firmly, the sensation of being full - so full, God, Geno was the perfect size - just enough to have him shivery and tense. Maybe just sitting here, focusing on that feeling would be enough to get him off.

"Sid, please, let's go," Geno pleaded, and he was making Sid feel so good, it hardly felt fair to deny him. He let Geno guide him into a slow grind of his hips, and that was - maybe not better than the perfect fullness, but not worse, feeling Geno's dick slide out and then back in, pressing him open anew with every stroke.

"That's really fucking great, G," Sid told him, and Geno nodded. His eyes were glazed and black with lust, like the scent of Sid's heat was drugging him. Maybe that shouldn't be so hot, but it was hard not to feel good about Geno helpless under him, letting Sid take whatever he wanted.

"Gonna," Geno warned him, and Sid bared his teeth. 

"Not yet," he said, and pressed his palms against Geno's chest like he could stop him. "I need - don't, don't." He didn't think he could bear it if it stopped. His whole body flinched at the thought of being left empty and unsatisfied.

Geno's hands felt cool on his overheated skin, smoothing down his sides and belly, blunt nails scratching through the hair around his dick. Then he closed one hand around Sid's dick, and Sid yelped so loud they probably heard him in the next room. 

He didn't care. They could hear him in the fucking lobby for all he cared, because that sure, tight grip sent fire racing through him, and he had to fuck himself between Geno's cock and Geno's hand, his body taking over from his brain. He could hear the slap of their bodies, filthy-wet, and he wanted more, fuck, he wanted it never to stop - 

"Gonna," Geno said again, and Sid could scream with frustration, because he _needed_ -

"Oh," he said, as Geno swelled inside him, a sweet easy stretch. "Oh, oh, fuck..." His head fell back and he watched the ceiling swim in and out of focus as glowing satiation rolled through him. This was what he needed, this was exactly it, and Geno had given it to him. 

He lifted his head, which seemed to weigh a lot more than it had earlier, and looked down at Geno, who was looking back, mouth curved in a dopey smile. 

"Hi," Sid said, and Geno parroted it back, grinning wider. He really did look smug now, but Sid figured he'd earned it. He spread his thighs a little wider, and managed to lean over enough to press a kiss to Geno's smiling mouth.

"Sid," Geno crooned to him, and cupped Sid's face and kissed him deep and sweet. "So good."

It really was. He felt like he was filled with helium, like only Geno's knot was keeping him from floating away. The thought made him giggle, and he ducked his face into Geno's shoulder to hide his smile. 

"Cute," Geno told him, and Sid nipped his earlobe. "My Sid." Definitely smug, and his hands curved possessively around Sid's waist. 

Maybe, maybe Sid should have paused to consider if hooking up for a heat was a casual, buddies, teammate thing in Russia. He propped himself up on his elbows, and considered Geno's face, which was already a face he was very fond of. Even when it looked as intensely self-satisfied as it did right now.

Still. Sid felt pretty fucking satisfied right now, adrift on glorious endorphin seas. Next time he was lying on the couch with Geno pressing kisses to his throat, he was going to remember this exact sweet ache of pleasure.

"I want to do this again," he said, and Geno hugged him closer and smiled up at him like it was just that easy. 

It wasn't, of course. But maybe it wouldn't be as hard as Sid had thought.


End file.
